


i like the way you look, baby

by plingo_kat



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 16:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plingo_kat/pseuds/plingo_kat
Summary: “I mean.” Klaus stares at the ceiling. “The nipple piercing.”Ben groans deeply enough that Klaus feels the vibration in his spine. “Don’t talk to me about the nipple piercing.”





	i like the way you look, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Umbrella Academy [kink meme](https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/284.html?thread=33564#cmt33564).

“Okay, but you’re not an unbiased judge,” Klaus says. He swings his feet, heels kicking at the back of the couch. “He’s exactly your type.”

“I don’t have a type.” Ben slaps at him lazily from where he’s lying on the cushions. For a moment Klaus loses his breath; sometimes it still sneaks up on him, the expectation that Ben’s hand will pass through his flesh, insubstantial. Even years after that’s no longer a concern.

“You absolutely have a type.” Klaus flops backwards and lands on Ben, who _oofs_. “Gym dudes. Butch guys.”

“ _You_ like butch guys.”

“I mean.” Klaus stares at the ceiling. “The nipple piercing.”

Ben groans deeply enough that Klaus feels the vibration in his spine. “Don’t talk to me about the nipple piercing.”

“And. How did he end up with a scar in the exact same place on his head. That’s fate. That’s _karma_. That’s the universe going, look at this hot piece of ass, he’s gotta turn out the exact same way. Boom, done. Diego.”

“What are you guys talking about now.”

Both Klaus and Ben yelp, trying to jerk upright and ending up tangled in a heap on the floor. Diego looms over them, unamused. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to talk shit about me?”

Klaus recovers first. He’s had more exposure to Diego’s unamused face. And the view of him from below, powerful legs and trim waist and the frankly criminal point of his pierced nipple outlined by the tightness of his shirt. Ben closes his eyes. Why. Why is he like this.

“Of course not,” Klaus drawls. “Actually, when you aren’t in our presence we pine for you, wasting away for a crumb of your attention, withered in the depths of loneliness and misery--”

“Yeah, yeah.” Diego’s lips press together as he glances down at Ben. “You okay, Ben?”

“Hey! Why don’t you ask me if _I’m_ okay?”

“You’re on top of him, Klaus.”

“...Oh. So I am.” Klaus eels off Ben onto the carpet next to him. “There, much better.”

Diego sighs. “I’m not even going to ask. Changing the subject. Either of you hungry? I was planning to grab lunch at that pho place three blocks down.”

“Me, me!” Klaus raises his hand and waves it in the air.

“Yeah,” Ben agrees. “I’m in.”

“Get dressed in something warmer. If you aren’t at the door in five minutes,” Diego says to Klaus, “we’re leaving without you.”

“Cross my heart.” Klaus pats Ben on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Won’t leave you alone too long with him.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Thought you weren’t going to ask,” Klaus sing-songs. “By the way, I’m broke again, so you’re paying for lunch!”

He rolls to his feet and leaves in a whirlwind of laughter. Ben and Diego watch him go until Diego sticks a hand out and heaves Ben to his feet.

“Thanks,” Ben says, awkward. He’s nearly always awkward around Diego now, hyperaware of the the space their two bodies take up in the world, their relative positions. Diego and Klaus are close, as are Klaus and Ben, but the third side of their triangle has always been a bit of a struggle. Two introverts with limited shared interests.

They head to the foyer and pull on their coats and boots in amiable silence. Ben breaks it when they’re ready to go, shoulders leaned against the wall as they wait for Klaus.

“We weren’t actually shit talking you.”

Diego glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “I know. Klaus would do that, but you wouldn’t go along with it.”

“He doesn’t mean anything by it.” Ben feels a flush heat the tips of his ears.

“I know that too.” Damn. Diego’s mouth is made for smirking, plush and mobile in his handsome face. Ben presses the tip of his tongue against his canine, an invisible nervous tick. “He’s just a little shit.”

“Neither of you get to call anyone little,” Ben says, who is actually fairly tall but stands eye-to-chin with the majority of his siblings.

“Aww.” Diego slings his arm around Ben’s shoulders, pulls him in for a rough half hug. “Bitter about being short?”

“I’m not short.” Ben scowls.

“Shorter than me.”

“Most people are shorter than you. And Klaus.”

Diego opens his mouth to reply, but Klaus chooses that moment to trip down the stairs. “I’m here, I’m here. Let’s go, I’m starving.”

Ben misses the weight of Diego’s arm when he lets go, although he keeps his face impassive. Klaus mouths _sorry_ at him when Diego’s back is turned.

Ben shakes his head. _Forgiven_ , he mouths back, and follows Diego out the door. Klaus was right. He’s hungry.

*

“So,” Diego says a week later, slouched against the doorframe of Ben’s room. He has his thumbs hooked into the loops of his black jeans, same colored jumper tight over his torso. It’s thick enough Ben can’t see the nipple ring, and he wonders if he’s more disappointed or relieved.

“Yeah?” Ben glances down at his book, absorbing the last sentence before he bookmarks it and sets it down on his desk. “What is it?”

“Remember last week when we went out for lunch?”

“Mhm.” Ben also remembers the bitching session with Klaus before that about how hot their brother was, but he doesn’t say so.

“I overheard your conversation.”

“You...” Ben blinks, speechless. Diego slouches more under his incredulous gaze. “How much of it?”

“Most of the end, I think,” Diego admits. He’s talking slower now, shaping words deliberately. More than anything that tells Ben how much this affects him, how nervous he is. Diego’s had a lifetime to learn to control his stutter. It takes big things to shake that control loose.

Admittedly, given that they’ve been avoiding this topic for the better part of twenty years over two timelines, this is a pretty big thing.

“Uh.” Ben is supposed to be the smart one, besides Five. Where did his entire vocabulary go. “You did?”

“You really think that?” Diego’s hands twitch, and he crosses his arms, tucking his fingers close to his torso. “That I’m...?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Ben’s mouth says. “You’re gorgeous.”

He watches, fascinated, as red creeps over the bridge of Diego’s nose. The other man seems to squirm before he steps forward, closing the door behind him. Ben’s heart starts to pound.

“So are you,” Diego says, low, and Ben stands like he’s drawn to him, metal filings to a magnet.

Diego’s mouth is just as plush as it looks. They kiss slowly, carefully, the weight of their shared history between them, until Ben nips playfully at Diego’s lower lip and he pulls back, shocked. Ben’s eyes are probably just as wide.

They crash back together. This time Ben eats at Diego’s mouth, greedy for the wet writhe of his tongue and the soft noise it pulls from Diego’s throat. His hand fists in Diego’s criminally tight shirt before sliding underneath to trace the hot skin there, the muscle. Jesus. Out of of all of them Diego probably spends the most time sculpting his body; the rest of them tend to rely more on their powers to fight.

He wants to see. Diego falls back on Ben’s bed with a laugh, mouth red and wet, shirt rucked up near his ribs, looking like a centerfold of the best kind of magazine.

“Take your shirt off,” Ben says, breathless.

Diego bites his lip as he grins. “Only if you do, too.”

The way he stares when Ben obeys is gratifying -- so gratifying that Ben strips off his sweatpants as well, clambering into Diego’s lap to get his palms over the expanse of Diego’s torso, to _finally_ touch the maddening ring at his nipple. Diego’s hips jump when he flicks it and Ben leans down to lick, taste the metal on his tongue. He _whines_ when Ben takes the piercing between his teeth and tugs.

“Why did you even get this,” Ben mumbles into his chest.

“Just w-wanted to.” Diego’s hands tremble with restraint as he slides them over Ben’s arms to settle at the small of his back. Ben arches into them until Diego gets the point and grabs his ass. “Liked the way it looked.”

“I’m not complaining,” Ben says fervently. He fumbles open Diego’s belt and undoes his fly, but he doesn’t want to get up so Diego can strip. Whatever. It’s fine.

They’re both hard, which is a little embarrassing given that all they’ve been doing is some light groping and making out, but on the other hand it means that Diego tips his chin up when Ben gets his hand on his cock, exposing the long line of this throat and pushing his whole body up into Ben’s. He tucks his face into the join of his neck and shoulder and breathes in the scent of him, leather and knife oil and sweat, sucks a bruise right where the collar of his shirt would sit. Drinks in the soft noise Diego makes, the way his fingers dig into the meat of his thighs.

“Ben, oh, f-fuh--”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ben completes for him, groaning as he shoves his own boxers down his hips and rubs them together, already slick and so, so hard. It only gets better as they move, precum smoothing the way, heads bumping as they slide through Ben’s fist. The whole thing is rushed and messy and artless and Ben laughs as he comes, biting down on the tempting curve of Diego’s neck, which makes _Diego_ come with a bitten off moan.

Ben sits back and eyes the damage. Silken lines streak over Diego’s stomach and chest, one _almost_ touching his pierced nipple. Ben thumbs at it and Diego shivers.

“Wow,” Ben says. He tries not to sound smug, but. Yeah, he’s smug.

“This was not the plan.” Diego drapes an arm over his eyes, which only serves to emphasize the definition of his chest and triceps. Ben touches them, awed. “I was gonna ask you out for dinner.”

“We’ve gone to dinner hundreds of times. This is better.” 

They share a sweet kiss until Diego’s tangled pants catch on his softening dick and he hisses.

“Cleanup?”

“I’ll do it.” Ben tucks himself away and dismounts. Hm. Another day he’s actually going to sit on him, get that dick in him and watch the play of muscle as Diego fucks him, the way his mouth falls open and his face screws up in ecstacy.

Diego looks at him from under his arm and grins like he knows what Ben is thinking. Ben smiles back, helplessly.

Another day _soon_.

**Author's Note:**

> plingokat @ twitter


End file.
